


Video Killed the Radio Star

by D_Lite_Writes



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Multi, Music, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28017693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_Lite_Writes/pseuds/D_Lite_Writes
Summary: Fifty years after the original success of the Hazbin Hotel and the original workers of the hotel now reside in Heaven. Charlie continues to work hard to rehabilitate the sinners with her wife. But as the memories of the rehabilitated overlord of hell fades away, it's only a matter of time until his forgotten works are taken advantage of. This time on a new platform of entertainment. In anger for the plagiarism, Charlie reports what she sees. Though she had no way of knowing the series of events she was about to set off. . .
Relationships: Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Kudos: 8





	Video Killed the Radio Star

**Author's Note:**

> ((This is kinda a comedy/drama kinda thing. It will have a few song moments, I'll leave links to the song if I can. I'm new to AO3, so I apologize for any typos that appear. This story will basically be about a new radio demon taking Alastor's place after he leaves))

A soft sigh escaped the beetle's mouth as she typed away on her laptop. "Aaand, post." she mentioned, voice devoid of emotion. "Hello my darling little actress~" The beetle didn't look up from the screen as the familiar hands rested on her shoulder, "And how is this new video doing so far?~" "I just posted." Puck turned around and rose an eyebrow. Her eyes hurt from staring at a screen, and turning to look at her boss's face didn't help. "And how many are watching?" Vox asked, standing up properly and putting his hands behind his back. Puck rolled her eyes and glanced back at the screen. "Four thousand and counting." "Good!" Vox began to walk away. 

"Hey boss?" The overlord stopped in place, a scowl rising to his screen. He knew what was coming. She had been asking this question since she came to work for Vox three years ago. "When do I get to do some of my /own/ skits?" Vox turned on his heel and smiled down at her. "Oh, my dear, Puck." he shook his head fondly, approaching her. She was clearly trying to stay calm, her iridescent arms clutched the arms of the computer chair she sat. But knuckles her tight, and regardless of the actress's smile, he knew there was no happiness behind the gesture. 

Vox put his arms on her shoulders and turned the chair again, pushing her back towards the editing screen. "You know as well as I that you don't have a strong enough social media presence to do your own skits! They're so creative- hell isn't ready for them yet! Stick to what has worked in the past for now. Once you're popular enough, you can go off and make your own channel. And I will _personally_ finance it." he smiled and gently tugged on her antennae. 

The girl tensed, reaching a hand up instinctively to yank her antennae away. "That hurts, ya know." She resisted the urge to pull away as her face was cupped. "And you insulting my work hurts _me._ " he replied, softly. Puck sighed and nodded, "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again. I'll keep performing the skits you give me until you think I'm strong enough to create something on my own." "Good girl." Vox patted the rainbow-colored half-shaved head and walked away, happy that he had broken her yet again.   
  
Puck gave another deep sigh as she stared at her reflection on the screen. Big blue eyes framed with large glasses stared back at her. _What am I doing with my life?_ she thought to herself. A loud buzzer played over the intercom and hordes of workers began to leave their screens, happily speaking to one another. Puck, however, continued to stare at her reflection, deep in thought. She jumped as a hand was placed on her shoulder, much smaller than Vox's.   
  
The red-furred fox demon stared back at her. "You okay?" "He did it again." Puck muttered, putting her head in her hands, "And I _let_ him." "It's your job." the fox pointed out, "You lose this, you go back to living on the street." "I didn't live on the street, I lived on your couch." "And I like the rent you pay me. Now, come on, let's get some tea." Tea always seemed to cheer her up. Puck sighed and stood, stretching, "Fine. . .It's not like I've got anything to _write_." she hissed out, bitterly. She grabbed her leather jacket and pulled it over her green-tinged skin, grumbling bitterly as she left the building.

* * *

"I just don't _get_ it, Hobbit!" Puck exclaimed, grabbing her tea from the barista and tossing her a few dollars tip. "I could write the exact same story as what I'm putting out- but he won't even let me try! Hell, I don't even get to choose who gets what part?! What am I even _doing?!_ I'm not acting in these videos, all I am is labor for editing!" She stopped, going silent. ". . . That motherFUCKER!!!" she slammed her fists on the table. "Fucking, asshole! That's all I am, isn't it?! That's all any of us are! We're a ton of editors being manipulated by this stupid shitty-" She stared down at the fuzzy paw covering her mouth. 

"Please stop." Hobbit begged, "I get your angry. But what are you gonna do about it? You need a job." Puck let out a small angry groan as she slowly sank back into her seat. The shell on her back closed as her wings stopped humming. "I hate my life." Puck said, wasting no time and slamming her head against the table. Her fingers played with the hem of her bubblegum-pink skirt. "Then do something about it." "Huh?" she glanced back up at Hobbit. "You hate your job, right?" Hobbit continued, sipping from her tea and carelessly swiping through her phone. 

". . . Yeah. . ." Puck chirped, softly, sitting up properly. "Then find a new one." Hobbit glanced over at her, "I'm just one of the musicians for background music. I like my job. But if you don't like working at Voxtube, then work somewhere else." "He _owns_ the internet, Hobbit." Puck glared. "Yeah? So don't work on the internet." the fox countered. "Where else would I work? Live shows are dead. Livestreams all that exist now." Puck let her chin sink into her hand. "I don't know, Puck, but you gotta do something, right? I'll see you at home." Hobbit patted her shell as she left, halting to glance back at the beetle at the door. 

Puck had always been a stark contrast to Hobbit, even in their living days. Compared to Hobbit's jeans and baggie hoodie, it was clear Puck belonged in front of an audience. A blue and pink tie-dye crop top beneath a leather jacket, a bright pink skirt over black leggings and combat boots, that was her. Bright, with a bit of an edge. But the longer she worked for Vox, the dimmer and dimmer her little light shone. But this was something Puck needed to figure out on her own. So Hobbit left her alone. 

Puck wasn't even really paying attention to what was on the little screen of her phone. She just needed something to help her feel less miserable. She didn't hesitate to put in her earbuds and listen to whatever the first song on her playlist was. Not that she absorbed the music anyways. DING! The beetle opened her eyes and stared down at the alert, curiously. "Reported? Who would report my videos?" she mumbled, clicking on it. She stared down at the alert curiously. 

**'This story was stolen from the Radio Demon! - Charlie Magne'**

". . . Who the hell is the radio demon?!" 


End file.
